Return of the Dark Acolyte
by IBG
Summary: AU- Anakin never fell, but he's not-quite-light. Order 66 never happened, but the Jedi had to change. Ten years have passed since Sidious' defeat ended the Clone Wars. Obi-Wan Kenobi is given an 'easy' assignment in lieu of leave.. or is he?
1. Chapter 1

RETURN OF THE DARK ACOLYTE

After knighting his first padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi had never quite managed to complete his sabbatical. Initially, the matter was not even entertained. The republic was at war.

His first genuine attempt was interrupted by the jail-break of Aurra Singh, and subsequent death of Nute Gunray.

After that he'd been asked to take over the training of a twice-orphaned padawan. The Jedi Council thought him especially adept at dealing with emotionally traumatized force-sensitive beings.

Rheeke had taken five years to heal and complete her training. When she was finally on her own he was given the relatively relaxing task of caring for Carnith, a clan of ten to eleven year olds.

Quninann Avent was ten, a Rattataki/ Human mixed-race girl whose force signature and grey-blue eyes drew Obi-Wan's attention immediately. Having settled the younglings for the night he looked through their files again now that he had met them, to compare what was recorded with his own impressions.

Quinann had been found on the steps of the temple at dawn on her third lifeday, with a local datachip pinned to her copper-red ponytail.  
Traced to a wholesale/retail dealer in Coruscant's industrial sector, the chip had been purchased the night before, though the proprietor had no recollection of the transaction.  
The information indicated the youngling's lifedate as 15:4:20 and her place of birth as en route to Boz Pity. Her father had been a Jedi itinerant, name unknown, her mother force-sensitive but untrained, name with-held. Nothing unusual, except that the 'untrained' mother had apparently mind-tricked someone, and had kept her child far longer than most parents would have. However the child being part Rattataki could explain both.

Quinann had been tested, her midichlorian count found to be 11500, and she was taken into Carnith Clan just in time to start formal training with the other younglings.

She was talented, emotionally volatile, naturally aggressive, and already showing great promise with her saber skills.

Kenobi shook his head with disbelief at himself as he nodded over the file, already mentally selecting exercises that would suit the girl and help her gain emotional control. Deciding he must be temporarily insane, he set his Chrono and went to bed, because the one draw-back of this assignment was getting up early to get the younglings out to class on time.

In his months with them he got to know all the younglings of the clan, but Quinann stood out. Several months and many lengthy meditation sessions later, he could fathom only one reason for Youngling Avent's effect on him. The Force intended that he take her as his Padawan. When he completed the crèche assignment he took her before the Council and did just that.

Anakin Skywalker had been fully aware that his former Master was considering taking a new apprentice. Preoccupied as he was with his daughter's training and re-integration into the Junior Legislative Programme, he had no opportunity to meet Quinann until after she moved in. He would later describe the experience as unnerving.

Physically, the girl had white skin similar to Aurra Singh's, and copper-toned red hair, but her face was simultaneously familiar and strange, and her force signature ebbed and flowed like nothing he had ever experienced, yet caressed his senses like an old ambivalent friend. The hair on Anakin's neck stood up, and the fingers on his left hand tingled when he touched her. An involuntary shiver coursed through his body, and he withdrew his hand.  
For all their ability to adapt and survive Rattatakis rarely ventured off their home planet, and the few life experiences Anakin had with them were negative, colouring his view of the group and this girl. He made few apologies for his occasional xenophobia, but he admonished himself to curb his response this time. Such feelings had led him to very dark places before.....

For her part, Quinann gave him a narrowed look of challenge at first, but within a minute her chin had tilted straight up, confident and slightly haughty in her manner. She had decided that he was not a threat, and could not become one, since her new Master had already taken his oath.  
It struck Anakin as strange how quickly beings began imitating each other when they lived together, because the second expression had smacked every bit of Kenobi's usual look when he'd won a battle of wills.

Later, Anakin reasoned his reaction was partly born of subconscious jealousy. Obi-Wan had chosen this girl. No matter their close relationship now, Anakin had been a final assignment from Master Qui Gon. (Rheeke had been orphaned and reassigned, so there was no reason to envy her.) Further complicating matters, Anakin had hoped his mentor would eventually train Luke, but that was unlikely now. This realisation was also affecting his reaction to the new Padawan.

'She's something alright,' was the only response he could muster to Obi-Wan's quest for his insights after Quinann had gone to sleep.

Ten years later.....

'I'm getting too old for this sort of thing,' was Obi-Wan Kenobi's first thought as the small modified freighter the Jedi had assigned them for their current mission swept across the sky-lanes en route off Coruscant. At least Quinann was a little more considerate with her lane changes than Anakin had been at her age. His aging sphincters would most likely have failed if they were put to that kind of test now.

'You're not _that_ old, Master,' the girl quipped aloud from the pilot's chair, her ponytail bobbing away from her padawan braid as she turned her head and reached over the instrument panel.

She was his height now, and the tuft of hair at the top of her mostly bald head made her seem even taller. Her hair was getting darker with age, Obiwan mused to himself, but her eyes were the same grey-blue, except when they shifted with her mood.

'Yours is getting greyer.' She glanced at him. 'Actually, I take that back. You're all white now, like Alderaan's last mountain winter happened on top of your head.'

He smiled. She had matured physically, emotionally and in the ways of the force. It would soon be time for her trials. He would miss her, but just maybe he would get around to taking some time for himself….

'Yeah. That's really going to happen. Those sphincters you keep worrying about would probably fail right then from the shock of having so little to do. You'll find some poor youngling to torture to Knighthood yet again…..'

He couldn't comment on that one. He only hoped the force would be merciful and give him a break. When they had entered hyperspace he turned to her, determined to review their mission.

Two weeks later……

Quinann stared with disbelief at the gaping wound in her master's left side. They had only been joking about this being his last field mission, but now it looked like it could become the truth. A sharp piece of alloyed durasteel that had impaled him during a freak speeder crash, so the injury was not cauterized. Air bubbled through the hole with each breath he took, and she could see parts of his insides that were never meant to be exposed. His blood had soaked everything, the smell, feel and sight of it stifling and terrifying her. He was trying to talk, and she trying to soothe as they were rushed from the site to the nearest healers' facility.

'So this is what this feels like, to die in my Padawan's arms,' he thought, remembering how it had felt to hold Qui Gon. The thought filtered over their bond.

'Haaasch, haaasch, you're not going to die, you old 'Bat. You can't leave me….'

'You won't….. be an orphan. I… submitted… your name….. You're ready……'

'No, Master. I'm not ready. I still need you…..'

They kept up the exchange all the way from the site, and then he was rushed out of her arms and into surgery, leaving her soaked and exhausted to wait. At least her hosts were kind enough to offer her space to wash-up and change.

An hour later......

The Firrerreoan Healer in charge of General Kenobi's care came to her looking grim.

'Padawan Avent, I am Arthrir. We have done as much as we can, but he needs Human blood, and we have none of that in stock here. We can ship some in from the Annaj System, but that will take hours, and I'm afraid he doesn't have that much time. Do you have any on your ship?'

They had substitutes, yes, and Quinann hurried to get them, but even after they were given he needed more.

'You don't have any human settlements on this world?'

'No. And even if we did, his typing is unusual. We've placed an order with the facilities on Bakura, and it will be here in one standard day, but….'

'Take my blood,' the padawan offered as desperation flooded through her at the healer's implications.

'You're not even human, young one. Most likely it won't match,'

'I'm closer to human than any other being here, and he's about to die. Take my blood. Please. I have to know I did everything…..'

Arthrir looked at her with the most irritating pity, but he took her into the lab, and complied with her request. He didn't expect this charade would go beyond the first round of tests. So when his tech commed him in the Healer's Lounge to inform him they had a workable match, he was flabbergasted.

Quinann did not question the Force's reprieve. She laid back on the lounge provided and stuck out her arm. 'Take as much as he needs,' she told the tech, who laughed.

'That won't be necessary. I'll take two units from you. Since you two match we can probably use the substitutes from your ship that were intended for you if he needs more.' After setting up her donor, she continued to chat. 'All this time, we never thought to test you. We had to go three sectors over to find a suitable match, that's why it took so long. Guess it's a Jedi thing,'

Feeling woozy despite her earlier bravado Quinann could only murmur her assent. Dull grey-blue eyes flicked over the room, searching everything, fixing on the Healer for a moment, then drifting closed.

Arthrir had signed off on the unusual procedure, but as he watched the now translucent donor, the sheer improbability of the situation disturbed him.  
He went back to the sample comparison consoles and rechecked the information. He must be missing something. The moment the girl's eyes held his he had the disconcerting feeling he'd seen that look before.  
Dropping into his chair he punched a single key where the machine had been blinking out options, begging him to run one more test.  
When the 'beeeep' indicating a ready result sounded, he wondered if he'd made an ethical mistake, but the etcher was set to automatically duplicate such results, so the next sound was another 'beeeep' as the etching began, and a helpful synthesized voice said 'Match positive, match positive.'

On the other side of the room Quinann had finished her donation, and was now consuming an energy drink. She looked up at the voice. 'I thought that was already established?'

'Ummm, yes.... I… I…. just wanted to understand the compatibility before we went ahead......' The Healer was peering at the screen, and his agitation came to her clearly even without the force.

The girl's face hardened with fear for her Master. 'Don't try to keep anything from me. What did you just do?'

Arthrir opened his mouth, then closed it, unwilling to impart the information. With the elder Jedi still unconscious, he had nothing of relevance in the way of answers for the girl. His mental debate proved pointless as Quinann waved her free hand and the flimsy from the etcher wafted over the bank of computers and across the room onto the lounge beside her. He could only watch as her face (which had been returning to its usual vibrant white) transformed back to almost translucent.

'This, this can't be right! Can it? How?' Eyes went back and forth several times, from the flimsy to the healer. The result was in basic, with illustrative drawings. There was no chance she'd misunderstood.

Obi-Wan Kenobi awoke to the sensation of his Padawan at his side. He was surprised. She should be with the living, and the last he'd known he was preparing to join Qui Gon in the force. Apparently he had not. He reached for their mental bond but found it shut. Odd. He brushed her presence. She was angry, hurt and resentful. All directed at him.

'Quinann?'

'_**Master**_,' said with venom.

'I take it you regret…. whatever you did….. to save my life? Or…. are you upset I put…… myself in a….. position to need….. saving?'

'A Jedi does not regret and anger is a path to the dark side, but revere deceit, we do?' she hissed. 'You were never going to tell me! Not even with your dying breath!'

'Tell you what? ..... That you will be…… a Great Jedi Knight? ....... That I am…. proud of you? …… That I love you…… as if you were mine?'

She jumped from the chair at that point, started to pace and yell. His weak state was apparently not relevant to her.

'Stop it! Schut-Stang! It never ends with you! _Everything_ is from a _certain point of view_! You were about to **_DIE_**! Who were you protecting? My mother? I remember her, you know. Her face, her voice, her laugh, how much she loved me, how she said the Jedi would take care of me......' She laughed harshly and whirled to face him. 'Or was the Negotiator and Grand Master-in-training protecting himself and his precious reputation? Is that why you trained me? To make sure no one would find out?'

'Padawan…. what are you…… talking about?'

'Stop calling me that!! I know!! Basic truth. That's all I want from you. Just tell me the truth.' Sobbing started, and Quinann's voice fell. 'All those fine words. Do you think so lowly of me? Is what I'm asking so very much?'

Unable to muster the strength to argue further, he tried their bond again. It had always taken the minimum of energy to work. 'Quinann, I would do anything for you, regardless of the code. You know that my reputation is variegated at best, because things even Anakin failed to find in his training bond, you found in yours….'

She was staring at him now, assessing his answers for the first time with some calm and the force, feeling the ring of perceived truth through their bond.

'Tell me, Padawan…… What has upset you so?'

'You don't know….. Oh Force…. You _really_ don't know!' She giggled with relief, then sobered and began sobbing again. 'But you should have figured it out! Maybe you regret it happened, or you don't remember…. Force, if you reject me……' she shook her head, hid her face and began to cry in earnest.

'Quinann. Come. Why would I do that?'

He indicated the seat next to the bed. She took it, but instead of explaining, handed him the offending flimsy.

'You needed blood. I was a match, but it made no sense, so the Healer ran more tests. I think he meant to give it to you first, but I sensed something was wrong, and I grabbed it off the etcher….'

Her Master's hands were shaking so hard the flimsy looked like a leaf in a storm. He was starting to sweat, though the room was being kept very cool to control his metabolic rate.

'Oh Force, oh Force….. No…. how….. She…. She didn't….. Couldn't… Oh force, she did….. Ah!...... Sith!! Seven Hells of Korriban…….'  
He looked the girl beside him over, appraisingly now. No doubt remained in his mind what had happened or when, just the details of the mechanics of it, and those had no bearing on the outcome. Sometimes, when people were tortured they lost…'time'. During those episodes anything could happen to them. Anything at all. And they'd have no clue it had happened until a piece of flimsy told them they had a half-Rattataki daughter they'd failed to recognize in ten years of close contact.  
'Sith in Hell…. She did. Force….. She did.'

Quinann was quiet through his exclamations. Her Master seldom swore. The fact that he was doing it now made her sorry she'd ever seen that flimsy, and sorrier that she had confronted him about it. She waited, stomach roiling, heart sinking.

He covered his mouth with his left fist the way he was wont to do when something inappropriate amused him.  
'I have a child,' he thought. 'Me. Of all the Jedi in the Temple. Me.' He chuckled, then hissed aloud. 'Asajj. I don't know if I should be furious or grateful,' he thought, as his eyes took in the girl in the corner again. By definition, she was a child of rape. He'd just admitted that he loved her as if she was his own. Well, she was his, and he couldn't take back the way he felt, even if he'd wanted to.  
'Grateful,' he decided aloud. 'Yes…. definitely…. grateful. Come, young one….. let's see if this…… hug feels any different….. now that we…… know who you are.'

As they were having supper (for Obiwan it was something in a bowl that resembled babyfood in every way) Quinann replayed their conversation in her mind. Her Master ('Father' she corrected herself in addled mental parentheses) had used a name….

'You said Asajj.'

He looked up from his bowl. Denial was pointless. When he had swallowed he said 'Yes.'

'As in Asajj Ventress, Dark Jedi, second in line for the last Sith Apprenticeship, Rattataki female on OUR investigative list, obsessed with you, tried to kill Master Skywalker numerous times…..'

'One and the same,'

Quinann grabbed her datapad and scrolled through the stats, until she came to the holo of Ventress, which she now looked at much more closely than she had before. 'Oh Force, that's her! That's my Mother! She couldn't have……'

'I don't know,' he interrupted her train of thought. 'The flimsy is my answer, and it is the only answer I will ever need. Do you understand?'

She sighed heavily and nodded, but remained confused on another point. 'Why did you want this assignment?'

'Ventress began Jedi training as a child after her parents' death, but then she lost her Master too, and she grew up having to fight to survive. I believed those were the underlying reasons for her aggression, and that she could be 'turned' from the darkness if shown a different way. I attempted to reach her several times, including after you must have already been born.  
Did my efforts encourage her to bring you to the Temple? I don't know.  
Given your lifedate, you must have been conceived on Jabiim. She took less part in the war after that campaign. When she was badly injured in her last duel with Anakin, we thought her dead, but she had only disappeared.  
Two and a half years later you turned up on the temple steps with your lifedate and some careful misinformation attached to your hair.'  
He stroked her hair as he said it, running the coarse, slightly wavy strands through his calloused fingers.  
'My hair. My eyes. Our training bond…. isn't a training bond at all. It's a parent/ child bond, like Anakin has with Luke. I didn't see it. But perhaps this was best. I might have reacted badly if I had found out before I got to know you, and I would not have trained you if I had known.'

'I think Master Skywalker suspects,' Quinann said.

'He senses something, but he's never been able to identify what. The first time he met you he was too thrown to speak. He put aside his questions about you for my sake, and it made him blind the obvious. I did the same. We can keep this private if you want, Quinann. Fame in the temple is difficult. Infamy is even worse. Believe me, after Anakin I know. So what we say when we get home will be completely up to you, though my medical record is going to raise the obvious questions. One look from an unbiased individual and the story will be all over the Temple.'

'I don't want to be reassigned. Master Erin will keep our secret if she takes over your care directly. We tell Master Skywalker, but only after trials. Did you really submit my name?'

'Yes. I was waiting until after this mission to tell you. With me injured like this we'll be going home now anyway.'

An invitation to the Knighting Ceremony was standard courtesy to all the Masters 'in Temple' at the time. Anakin's was personally delivered by his 'Sister' Knight Avent. His senses rose as usual, but he filed them away and offered her a welcoming smile and a cup of tea.

Celebratory dinners at Dex's Diner were traditional to this line of Jedi, and Quinann's Knighting was no different. After their meal the new Knight looked pleadingly at her former Master. Whatever the silent communication between them, she leaned into his chest and embraced him tightly. In response he kissed the scalp above her forehead. When he broke the kiss, she grinned, pecked him on the cheek, and stood up.

'Master Skywalker,' she bowed, and strode out of the diner, ponytail swaying, padawan braid in hand.

'Alright, Master, are you going to tell me what THAT was about?'

'No, but I have more important news I want to share.' Obiwan paused, gathering his thoughts. 'You have always been ambivalent towards Quinann.' A neutral statement of fact.

'I can't help the way I feel, Master,'

'I know,' the elder Jedi smiled. 'I am pleased that you did not allow those feelings to affect our friendship. You've been most helpful in her training, and for that I am grateful. On our last mission we accidentally came upon some information, in light of which your reaction to her is perfectly understandable.' The older man paused again. 'When I was injured Quinann gave me blood….'

'Master, that's not supposed to be possible, is it?'

'That is exactly what the Firrerroan Healers thought, so they ran some extra tests. As it turns out, Quinann is my daughter.'

'**_YOUR WHAT????_**'

Obiwan was half-laughing at the reaction. His best friend's expression had predictably turned to thunder, his eyes to ice.

'Who's her mother?'

'I didn't think you'd have to ask that, my old Padawan.'

Anakin looked askance, nauseous. 'You….?'

Obiwan cut him off with a shake of his head and a wave of his hand. 'Had I known anything about what happened I would have recognized Quinann when I first saw her in the Creche. Ventress had me drugged beyond recall or unconscious.'

'_SCHUTTA!!_ _Da dopa-maskey loca schutta! Chuba jujiminmee, E cheeska, E moocha, e jeeska do cheeka-nyee….. Oto cheekta crispo…_'  
Anakin growled on for some time in Huttese, heaping curse after curse on his long-time nemesis, while Obiwan winced through the more graphic descriptions and threats, and waited for him to calm down.  
'You seem rather….. _content_ with this…. _Situation,_ Master,' the younger man observed when he was again capable of coherent basic.

'What choice do I have? It's no more Quinann's fault who her Mother is and what she did than it is my fault who my parents are, or your fault that you were conceived of the Force.'

That was absorbed with deep breaths, a working jaw, and the soft whirring of mechanical parts as Anakin clenched and unclenched his right fist.  
How could Obiwan accept this? Quinann might be blameless, but Ventress was not…..  
_Then_ he remembered the emotional departure minutes earlier.

'Where was she going?'

Obiwan's eyes flashed reproach at the intrusive, hypocritical question. The lack of verbal response was enough to set Anakin off again.

'That….. _woman_ is the Republic's most-wanted war criminal!! But then, _you_ never saw her that way….'  
He managed to stop short of accusing his Master of secretly wanting whatever had happened, though from the older man's pained expression the implication was clearly received.

'Anakin, the Mother Quinann remembers is hard to recognize as the Ventress we knew. She gave our daughter to the Jedi, and by extension to me. Should I deny what is rightfully hers and forbid Quinann to gift her braid as she wishes?'


	2. Chapter 2

Let me put my disclaimer here… Starwars is not mine.

SENILITY

Senility was a universal sentient frailty. It encroached on the minds and bodies of species as they approached the end of their natural life cycles. The female observer lurking in the shadows of the spaceport on Firreroa was middle aged by the standards of her own race, and had another six decades of natural life expectancy ahead of her. By stark contrast Quinann Avent's Human Jedi Master wore the badges of the elderly, with his silver grey hair and hover chair.

Weeks earlier Quinann's distress had seared her mind through their bond – so desperate and wrenching that she'd instinctively followed it. By the time she surfaced on Firreroa, the crisis was past, and transport arrived from Coruscant to collect the Padawan and her Master. Shielding her presence from the pair, she watched. It had been many years and she gorged herself on the girl's every move. She resisted the urge to brush with the force, mindful of the Master's likely reaction should she reveal herself. She was a wanted enemy of the Jedi Order.

At last the ship was stocked, and the hover chair glided away from the shaded boarding-portal, revealing the Master's face. Mentally the hidden observer shuddered, stunned as her heart's deepest concerns and hopes simultaneously revealed themselves and were laid to rest. Obi-Wan Kenobi was gritting and smiling through his pain and bantering with his Padawan. Quinann had not noticed her Mother's mental brush when her Master lay near death, but now she felt the force shift with Asajj's momentary lapse. She tensed and reached instinctively for her saber, but her Master lifted a staying hand.

'Our shadow is not a threat, or she would have struck by now. Do you recognize the presence?' Quinann's Master did not mention her apparent lapse in awareness of their surroundings. 'We will speak after we depart to avoid making our guest uncomfortable,' he said.

One month later….

Coruscant's sun set on the Senatorial District and the Jedi Temple. From her vantage point at one corner of the highest berthing platform of 500 Republica a lone cloaked female stood, facing the Temple. Giant reflectors at its base ignited to bathe the ancient ziggurat with an ethereal glow. She could acknowledge the Temple's physical beauty grudgingly, but held too many unresolved emotions involving beings that had (or still) lived within its walls for more.

Her six-year-old self had been certain it would be her home. Even now the darkened folds of her war-hardened heart retained memories of her long-dead Jedi Master. Without his influence she became Ruler, Separatist and Dark Acolyte. For years she'd dreamed of the Temple as a burnt, broken ruin, just retribution for his loss. During the Clone War she had strived for that goal until she discovered the glass ceiling. The Count of Soreno was just a fancy Dejarik piece. Sith Master Sidious was obsessed with a petulant child who had an abundance of power but lacked the necessary guile to truly retain command of the Dark. How she had hated Skywalker for usurping her and stealing her dream.

In the intervening years she'd set aside desires for vengeance for the injuries Anakin had inflicted. He had (unintentionally) catalyzed her freedom. In his Master she'd found a Knight of unassailable integrity and light, kind and patient as her own Master had been. Kenobi was a skilled warrior with ginger hair, grey-blue eyes and a startling intellect. On Jaabim she laid her trap for the Padawan, using the Master as bait, not considering she might ensnare herself.

What had possessed her to enter her captive's cell and comfort his exhaustion? His attempts to reason with her even as they fought or she tortured him? He'd never been consciously aware of her presence, but on waking his signature in the Force seemed refreshed. Her motives had been so thoroughly duplicitous that she had yet to discover them all herself.

'Are you alright, Ma'am?'

The parking attendant's question shattered her revere. He always patrolled this shift, and was accustomed to the habits of his guests. Many enjoyed the sunset from this vantage point. This female usually left when the reflectors on the Jedi Temple lit. He paused. Had she been watching the Temple all along? Why? Should he report her?

She felt the spike in his curiosity. Schut! She was still a wanted woman! Careless, careless…

'I'm fine, Pernom,' her harsh, low voice soothed. 'Just running late,'

'Just running late, Ma'am,' Pernom parroted, his observance of her evening-time habits forgotten.

She returned her attention to the temple. Tonight would be her last on planet… she'd stay a while longer.…

She recalled too clearly the surprising pangs of guilt she'd felt as Obi-Wan Kenobi cradled her broken body against his chest, pleading with her to embrace the light and accept his help. Desperate in her need to be left alone she sank into a dark-side trance, and he mistook her for dead.

It was for the best she told herself later as she made her escape.

But as the little one began to levitate loose items in their ship-board home she quickly reached the limits of what Ky Narec had the chance to impart. She did not want a fugitive's life (lived among criminals, at the edge between light and dark) for the laughing youngling with grey-blue eyes and the beginnings of a copper-red ponytail. The Jedi were having trouble recruiting. Obi-Wan Kenobi had trained the nine-year-old Skywalker. He was still on their council. He would not let a three-year-old youngling be turned away. Course was set for Coruscant, and sleep-time legends told of certain Jedi. In the alley beside the Temple just before dawn she'd given a subliminal promise to be waiting on planet at every important juncture, held her youngling one last time, and instructed the child wait on the steps for the Rise of the Sun. After a morning's cursory investigation Quinann had been placed in the Creche, and her Mother left the City-Planet.

She'd returned on the girl's 13th life-day, but the child had not come out for transport to the Jedi-corps, meaning she had found a Master. Ventress departed again, this time wondering who was training her child but not daring to contact the girl to find out.

Now she waited again, hiding in plain sight on a Coruscanti roof-top. The interaction between Master and Padawan at the Spaceport on Firreroa bespoke partnership as opposed to instruction between the pair, implying completed training. She'd followed them to Coruscant. A month had passed. It was becoming too risky to stay. The girl had reached her across the galaxy with her pain. Would she somehow know when Quinann was officially free?

Moments later she felt a shift in her parent-bond. She turned to see a Jedi Knight in full regalia strolling across the roof top towards her. Once seen the Jedi broke into a run, but pulled up awkwardly, just short of her reach.

'Ma'haach'tha-mai,'

A brief shocked pause, then Ventress closed the space between them and grasped the tear-streaked face in her calloused hands as eyes met, searched and acknowledged. 'Haaasch…. Haaasch….. La'haai-mai…..'

Senility was the only possible explanation in Anakin Skywalker's mind for the behavior his former master was currently displaying. The old 'Bat had been bumped on the head enough times. Arguing was going to be pointless from the deliberate way his former Master was enjoying every sip of his drink. Besides, Obiwan was still better at philosophical debates, and Anakin had no grounds to criticize anyone else's braid-gifting, considering what he'd done with his own. The older man smiled at him indulgently.

'This is supposed to be a celebration of my tutoring skills and my new freedom,' Obiwan chided. 'Let's have another round.'

Before the younger man could protest two more drinks were brought to their table. Another round went by, and another, and another until Anakin felt forced to interrupt.

'Okay, Old Man, that's it. One more and _Ventress_ will look like the responsible parent,'

'She is,' Obiwan guffawed as Anakin pretended to help him up, and the two strolled out of Dex's. 'Now, ten rounds of Sabacc!!'

Anakin rolled his eyes. 'It's late, Old Man. We should get you back to the Temple.'

'You're the Grandfather here, Anakin.' Obi-Wan reminded his friend, and received a grunt in response and the sound of a booted-heel turning sharply as the younger man stalked off towards their speeder.

'That old 'Bat is as far from senile as I am. This is intentional,' Anakin seethed mentally. He flew his former Master to his favorite Gaming Lounge at a suitably brisk pace.

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to comment on Anakin's flying, concentrating instead on not having any accidents in the speeder that he would never live down.

The regulars knew the crafty old Jedi and for the most part avoided too many rounds with him, but that didn't stop Obi-wan spending hours at the tables. It was nearly dawn when Master Kenobi decided he'd demoralized enough uninitiated pilots, businessmen and politicians, and elected return to the temple.

Of course there was another reason for his acquiescence. Quinann was waiting for them at the entrance to the hangar bay in a meditative stance. The subtle shielding Anakin had felt since the pair returned from Firreroa had lifted sometime during the night. Knight Avent exuded inner peace and her Padawan Braid was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

TREASON

As a youth Obiwan Kenobi had done his share of siding against his oath to the Jedi Order. He always returned. As an adult he had been devastatingly loyal, having acquired so much responsibility along with his Knighthood.

He never saw himself as betraying the order again. Yet here he was, choosing to commit treason. Was he beginning to believe the media-generated propaganda spiel about himself? Wasn't treason asking Anakin to spy on Palpatine all those years ago? Back then he betrayed his friend obeying the Council, and betrayed the Council 'forgetting' his suspicions concerning Anakin's relationship with Padme when in their High Chamber. And he would take every one of those decisions if presented with the circumstances again. Truly he had no reason to be surprised at himself now. He hadn't ensured Ventress' death when he had the opportunity. He shuddered to think what could have become of Quinann and thanked the force it guided him to act as he had. He could have confronted Asajj on Firreroa, or sent Guardians to her Industrial Sector hide-outs on Coruscant. He could have shared the truth with Anakin sooner and allowed his friend's natural reaction full sway. He had taken none of these choices. Instead he protected the deviant criminal who had done unspeakable things to him. Why? Now there was something to ponder in meditation.

Anakin never imagined he would live the day when Skywalker was the Team member following the rules and Kenobi the one breaking them. He was so disgusted with Obiwan when they returned to the Temple that he immediately stalked away from the hangar to meditate, but he found no solace with the droid parts in his quarters, and none of his tutorial students were in the training Salles when he got there. Returning to the hangars he considered the two projects he had there, but he couldn't concentrate. Obiwan could opine and forget. He, Anakin, knew what Ventress was capable of. He thought of the Naberries on Naboo, his son and his Padawan on their own in the Outer Rim, Leia on daily display in the Senate rotunda, and Quinann, so vulnerable to her mother's manipulation, and Baby Skye, who resembled his father and grandfather to the point that he'd gleaned little protection by carrying his mother's name… He (Anakin) would not let The Team be manipulated into inaction by Obiwan's love for Quinann thereby allowing the rest of his family be put at risk.

Ventress could not be trusted……

'Going to check on Skye,' was the brusque excuse he gave when Obiwan attempted to join him in the hangar.

The baby would wake soon. His parents were on off-world missions, giving Anakin opportunity to indulge shamelessly in his doting Grandparent routine. True to his heritage Skye was a cheerful, resilient, yet sensitive child. His Grandfather's darker moods disturbed him greatly, which precluded Anakin actually going to the Crèche now. Instead he went to the southern wall as he had so many times in his adolescence and slipped out into the Coruscanti dawn. He kept an old Nubian fighter in a private hangar in the Industrial Sector. It was a tenuous lead but he would trace Ventress path backwards from Firreroa. It was the most likely place for her to have started following the Kenobi/ Avent team.

As his ship tipped upwards through the sky-lanes he commed the Deputy Grand-Master.

'Master Windu, Skywalker here. I've picked up a lead on Ventress. She's left Coruscant, but I have a trail to work with. I'm departing the Industrial Sector in pursuit as we speak, Master.'

Something did not feel right to Mace about the conversation, but he could not place what it was. At least Skywalker had thought to inform the Council instead of just disappearing.

'May the Force be with you,' Mace responded.

The link was cut.


	4. Chapter 4

MAVERICK

An hour after Obiwan Kenobi had last seen Anakin Skywalker he was unsurprised to feel a sudden dimming in the bond they maintained. He'd come to recognize that feeling. It occurred whenever one of them left a planet where they had been together.

Later, Mace's announcement in Council Chambers was surprising, by the mere fact that Anakin had told someone where he was going.

'Atypical,' Mace conceded to the unspoken group thought, then pre-empted their comments with 'I've informed the Creche Masters.'

His colleagues didn't bother concealing their amusement that he'd been conscripted to take over duties with Skye.

Obiwan saw his opportunity, and spoke his intention with calm authority. 'If Council approves, I'll take Knight Avent and pursue the remaining fugitives.'

Unspoken was the side benefit of Quinann remaining as ignorant and physically distant from the coming confrontation as possible.

VENGANCE

Emotion, yet peace….

Passion, yet serenity…..

The ancient version of the Jedi Code was as far from Anakin on this journey as the modern one. To give himself over to Anger, Hatred and Fear… was the path to the Dark Side, a truth he knew only too well. Yet he felt the force as a driving desert wind at his back, moving him forward, commanding he find Ventress and…

It was on this point that the force became ominously silent. What would he do when he found her? Avenge….. whom? Clone soldiers long dead or retired? Planets rebuilt and at peace? Obiwan Kenobi? His former Master had forgiven Ventress and accepted her newly-discovered role in his life. He'd only avenge his own pride. The scar over his right eye burned and he scoffed at the thought. Misguided pride had led him nigh to Sith apprenticeship. He could never entertain it that way again.

But he needed something from her. It was the reason the force decreed he come….. He'd demand…. assurances of her intentions? Had he really come for those? Pitiful reasons to make a journey that his extended family would not soon forget.

She's a War Criminal who should be brought to Justice, he told himself. But in reality, her charges remained only because she had had never appeared to respond to them, and because Rattatak now claimed Republic affiliation, but not membership. She'd knowingly murdered thousands at the behest of the Sith, but a voice in his head whispered 'How many did you kill at Sidious request, Anakin? While conducting his War and on direct command? How many have you murdered at your own whim? You are a free man only because you left no witness to your crimes.' He moaned and rubbed his forehead. At times like these he longed for the certainty his younger self. A clear-cut source of danger, vulnerable family and unrepentant aggressors made his choices easy then. None of those were the case now, though, and the force had given him no vision, except that he needed to be here.

Ord Mantell and its many moons hung in his viewport, a vision of interstellar beauty and a refuge for smugglers and thieves. He'd left Coruscant on impulse weeks earlier. His contacts on Firrerroa proved reliable as he had expected, and he tracked 'Captain Avent' from her base on Bakura to Worlport.

Apparently that was what Ventress did for a living these days. She'd avoided Xizor Transport and former Seperatist worlds when she could, and kept off the racing circuits too, but Anakin knew he would find her now. She wasn't hiding. He berthed his fighter in the spaceport wing opposite the Daventure's and walked to the nearest Cantinas.

He'd been seated at one of the bars for less than a standard, just starting on his third drink when a tall, hooded female leaned suggestively against the left side of his body, inconveniently between his hands and his light-sabre. He subdued his urge to withdraw from the unwanted contact.

She hissed into his ear: 'A drink, Jedi. To Tyranus and Sidious, and their absence from our lives…..'

Ventress tipped back the steaming green concoction held lightly in her long calloused fingers, downing the liquid in a single draught and set the container hard on the bar.

'Another!! Bring one for my handsome young friend too!!'

It was odd to be invited to enjoy the cantina's fare by his quarry, but All Hells, it had been an odd day.

Now she leaned close enough that her breath tickled his ear. 'We can take this outside later, Skywalker. Enjoy your drink now.'

A feeling of Déjà vu took over leaving Anakin to wonder whether Obiwan had willingly socialized with Ventress at some point. He blocked that mental image, and pressed on.

'What are you up to, Captain?'

'I'm living my life out of the public eye. Transport Ship Captain, I am. Come here. Go there. You know. Why are you here, Skywalker?'

'To find out what you're doing.'

She raised a skeptical eyebrow in response.

He continued. 'How do I trust you aren't out here raising the Sith in the absence of your Masters?'

'That question from _YOU_, Anakin? _THEY_ were never _MY_ Masters, _MY LORD____!' A shallow mock bow accompanied her comment.

Inwardly Anakin winced at the truth. Outwardly he turned and glared at his drinking companion.

'You needn't worry about me, _PADAWAN_,' she continued. 'Look closer to home. Nothing's as well hidden as what's in plain sight.' She sauntered out of the cantina.

He tossed the required credits at the barkeep and stalked after her. Did she mean the Sith were regrouping in the core? Ascending openly as Palaptine had? The Order and the Republic could ill-afford such a catastrophe. She was moving quickly but he caught up with her just inside the entrance of the hangar bay.

'What do you mean, Ventress?' he spat.

'Wouldn't you like to know, _CHOSEN ONE?_'

'Tell me,' he growled. The hilt of his sabre had somehow arrived in his hand, and now he ignited it.

She moved to walk around him, and his saber lifted so the tip pointed to her throat.

Stepping back she ignited her own blades, and continued around.

'If you were Sith Master, who'd the Apprentice of Choice be now? Who is placed with the full trust of the Senate and Jedi Order as a birthright, autonomy and protection inherent in their position? Powerful, passionate, Children of the Chosen One… who better to take up Father's Mantle? Tell me, _PADAWAN_ is your daughter not going again in a month to Byss? Is your son not on Korriban as we speak? Did you never wonder why?'

She cackled when he froze. Extinguished her sabers and backed up the ramp to her ship, closing the hatch as she went, knowing he would not follow.

As she flew over the landing bay floor he remained rooted to the spot, staring, shoulders heaving, saber still ignited in his cybernetic hand, his grey-streaked blond ponytail cascading down the back of his dark robes half-way to his waist.

She almost felt sorry for him. Almost, but then he was running for his fighter.

And she was flying for her life, away from Worlport's tourist districts, out over the Industrial Yards of the ship-builders, towards the township where her next pick-up was waiting. At the City Limits her danger-sense flared. She'd barely had time to flick on shields when the Daventure's fuselage buckled in several places and her ship slammed violently into the ground.

She had a gash on her head, broken wrists, restraint bruises. Minor, but she felt no safer, and hobbled towards the deformed escape hatch with as much speed as she could manage.

'Haaasch, Padawan,' she thought as she went, 'Ever volatile, ever puerile, shoot the messenger….'

The Daventure exploded under the blaster fire and torpedoes of the old Naboo 1 Fighter streaking overhead. It looped back for another pass of deadly fire, and another, and then turned back towards Worlport and the pursuing Planetary Authorities.

Two weeks later, on Coruscant, Ventress' case was closed without a body.

The final official data-disc entry stated: 'Killed escaping capture on Ord Mantell.'

Master Skywalker wore his usual solemn, stubborn expression for the Council debriefing. (They were less than pleased with the Planetary Authority complaints, and the hefty bill for damages to the warehouses surrounding the crash site.)

He had seen her board her ship. He gave chase, blasted her ship and sterilized the crash site.

His aura in the force rang with the truth in his words.

But on Mustafar Obiwan Kenobi knew. Even from their current remote location, Quinann would have felt it if her mother had died. Wherever Asajj was now Anakin had let her go.


	5. Chapter 5

Postscript

I do not own Star Wars.

'Return of the Dark Acolyte' is a side-story or explanation for some events in the AU described in its summary.

The story branches from Cannon during the scene in the Chancellor's office where Anakin chooses whether to listen to the Chancellor or to Mace Windu.

As far as possible the events up to this point remain as they do in Canon, and the characters maintain their opinions, habits and flaws.

This was written before the most recent Clone Wars movie and series, and so their timeline and events are not as closely woven into the story as other events are.

As Ahsoka does not appear in ROTS, and Anakin can be denied the rank of Master I presume that she must have been killed (or re-assigned) prior to completing her training.

Both stories will culminate as one, simultaneously, so that neither of them is pre-empted.

I ask for your patience, and hope you will eventually enjoy the final chapters when they come.


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